Golden Trap by Hugh Pentecost Page A

near accidents, the threats. Our concern was, very frankly, not what might happen to you. You were no longer one of us, no longer useful to us. But we were very much interested to find out who was out to get you. That person might be dangerous to others who were still useful to us. Smith was given the assignment to try to identify the man or woman who was on your trail. He went where you went. Once or twice he dismantled booby traps set up for you before you could fall into them. But in all this time he’d not been able to make the critical identification.
    “He knew you were leaving Shannon yesterday for New York, and that you were coming here to the Beaumont. A second man was assigned to cover you in Ireland and Smith came on ahead. He checked in here, with Senator Maxim’s help. He was here in the lobby this noon when you checked in.
    “About ten minutes before you were due to arrive he called me to say that he had the Beaumont staked out and that he was ready to take up the job of tailing you. Half an hour later he called again. I had gone out on other business. My secretary tells me that he sounded excited. He told her to tell me that he thought he’d identified the person he’d been looking for.”
    “Who?” Lovelace asked, his voice husky.
    “He didn’t tell my secretary. Quite properly. I am a certified public accountant. My secretary knows nothing about my other activities. He said he had identified the person we were interested in and that he’d call me back in half an hour—when my secretary told him I was expected. He never called back. Obviously he couldn’t.”
    “What was he doing in my room?” Lovelace asked.
    “I think he must have gone there to warn you,”
    Kline said. “He’d identified your enemy. He followed the human impulse to try to put you on guard. I’m only guessing, but I think he let himself into your room and decided to wait for you. When someone opened the door he expected it would be you. He’d let down his guard for perhaps the first time in his career. The door opened and it wasn’t you, and he could never even reach for his gun.”
    I saw there were little beads of sweat on Lovelace’s forehead.
    “How did he get a passkey—and how did the other person who came after him get a passkey?” Hardy asked
    Kline’s smile was thin. He looked at Lovelace. “Is there a lock in this hotel you couldn’t negotiate if you wanted to, Mr. Lovelace?”
    Lovelace shook his head. He was far away somewhere.
    “Part of our training involves locks,” Kline said to Hardy. “Don’t waste time checking the hotel staff, or your key collections. Smith could have gotten into the room without trouble, and so could the man who killed him. If you take the lock apart, it’s a hundred to one you’ll find fresh scratches in the lock mechanism that weren’t made by the regular key.”
    “What next?” Lovelace asked, the husky voice gone dull and flat. “You keep saying ‘person.’ Didn’t Smith indicate to your secretary whether it was a man or a woman?”
    “No. As for what’s next, someone else will take over for Smith. He’s being briefed now. He will arrive at the hotel in the next hour or so. He’ll be pointed out to you by Mr. Hardy or Mr. Dodd. We have to expose him to you all because there are so many of you watching Mr. Lovelace that a stranger might easily be taken for the enemy.”
    “The new man’s name?” Lovelace asked.
    “John Smith,” Kline said.
    Lovelace laughed. It was a small, bitter sound.
    “I know from Mr. Chambrun and these gentlemen that you have no direct suspicions,” Kline said. “I have the list of names of people registered here in the hotel who might have reason to want to get even with you. Do you have any particular hunch about any one of them? With your experience I’d be inclined to pay attention to your hunches.”
    Lovelace suddenly had that exhausted look I’d recognized when I first met him. “Who can measure degrees of hatred?”